


Par Darasuum (Eternally)

by Bigorneaux



Series: Cyare Di’kute (Beloved Idiots) [2]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Corin and Din get their damn shit together and have a great time, Din Djarin Removes the Helmet, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I honestly just had way too much fun writing this, Idiots in Love, LadyIrina is a deity among mere mortals, Like honestly just so fluffy, M/M, Marriage, Newly weds, Sexy Times, Shower Sex, Sickening, and sexy, kind of, married fic, thank you for Corin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27647597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bigorneaux/pseuds/Bigorneaux
Summary: They amplify each other, Din thinks. Each whole on their own, but something greater still together.A companion piece toNi Cuy Kaysh Kar’ta, but can also be read as a standalone.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret) & Din Djarin, Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/Din Djarin, Din Djarin/Corin Valentis
Series: Cyare Di’kute (Beloved Idiots) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022686
Comments: 6
Kudos: 81





	Par Darasuum (Eternally)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Hidden and Revealed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23599798) by [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina). 



> This is a continuation of [Ni Cuy Kaysh Kar’ta](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27608434), which is set in a possible future where Din and Corin have finally figured out their damn feelings, gotten their acts together, and gotten themselves married. Mostly just happy porn with a lot of feelings, tbh. You don't need to have read the first one as long as you understand the context of this one being post-wedding vows.
> 
> Also, a serious thank you to LadyIrina here for the incredible 'verse she created in her Mandorin series. Corin and Din have stolen my heart and your work has inspired me to write again after a long, long time. Thanks for sharing these lovable dorks with us!

Din wakes slowly and easily in the gentle stillness of early morning. The bed is warm, the world is quiet, and Corin is tranquil within the circle of his arms, still asleep with a hand pressed palm open against Din’s bare chest. The room is bathed in the dim orange glow of the lamp they’d forgotten to turn out last night, and Din shifts just enough to look down at Corin's face. Though his vision still has the blurry edges of sleep, he can see his _riduur_ ’s face is serene and untroubled. The worry lines on his brow are relaxed, almost imperceptible right now, and his mouth is slightly open. He has fallen asleep with complete confidence that he will be kept safe until morning and the unspoken trust behind that pierces Din’s chest like a radiant little beam of light. It’s a sweetness that almost hurts. 

Sleepy and content, Din nestles his face into Corin’s hair, marvelling that he can have this now, that everything has been laid bare between them and that he is free to kiss Corin’s hair and breathe in his scent without the barrier of the helmet. 

Din drifts like that for a long while, on the edge between waking and sleeping, with images and sensations from last night fluttering lazily through his half-conscious mind. Corin’s self-doubt freeing itself into joy; Corin’s touches, his fingers tracing and touching the lines of Din’s face with a reverence that stole Din’s breath; the heat that curled inside Din as their lips met again and again; the feeling of Corin inside him, slowly breaking him apart into tiny shards of sharp, glinting pleasure and then tenderly piecing him back together again. Half in a dream, Din can feel the ghost of Corin’s hands on his face as he came, guiding him through the torrent of sensation that seemed to carry him up and out of his own body. Din can still feel the dull, sweet ache of where they were joined and as his attention settles on it, a little tendril of want unfurls low in his belly. 

He sighs blithely and trails a hand up Corin’s naked back. Judging by the total silence of the compound outside, they still have some time before the Covert is fully functioning for the day and Raga reneges on her babysitting duties. And as much as Din loves the kid, he intends to savour the languid intimacy of this alone time. Waking up like this, without immediately needing to assess his surroundings and check for danger, and with his newly-vowed _riduur_ in his arms, is an unspeakably precious gift and not one he intends to squander. 

He doesn’t want to wake Corin, but he also can’t seem to help himself right now when it comes to touching him. He sweeps his hand across the other man's back, up over the square of his shoulder, and then traces his fingertips onto the soft skin of his chest. Corin is just stupidly, blessedly beautiful everywhere and Din feels an involuntary clench in his chest at the sight of his hands on him. 

And he can taste now, too. Can caress this skin with not just with hands, but with lips and teeth and tongue. The giddiness that thought injects into him makes him feel like an idiot teenager. _Di’kute tome_ , he thinks fondly. _Idiots together_. 

He doesn’t taste yet, though. He doesn’t want to wake Corin just yet. Instead, he simply wonders at the strange paths that brought them here to this moment. The wrongs, the stumbles, the loss, the grief that bore them to this perfect moment. It seems unbelievable. What had he said last night? _Nu'ni lise urmankalar ner jate'kara. I can’t believe my luck_. Din smiles at that. Luck was Corin’s thing. His way of seeing the world. Finding himself reflecting that back in his own thoughts warms him in an odd, glad little way. It’s evidence that their souls have thread together, that Corin exists not just beside him now, but within him, too.

Din smiles dumbly into Corin’s hair. When had he become so damn sentimental? 

Moments stretch again, time smoothly slipping by, and then Corin shifts in Din’s arms, not fully waking up, but rousing enough to murmur a soft, “Hmmm,” before turning in the circle of Din’s embrace so that his back is pressed against Din’s chest. The sensation of so much skin against skin is intoxicating, and Din lets out a little hum of his own. Corin seems to burrow back into him even further, and Din just can’t wait anymore. He drops his lips down to the rounding curve of Corin’s shoulder and kisses there gently. He peppers more along the top of his shoulder, the curve of his neck, and then the shell of his ear. Emboldened, he drags his teeth gently over the delicate skin on the back of Corin’s neck and soothes over the spot again with his tongue. Corin just tastes...like everything good. Like home and pleasure and safety and desire. 

Din rests his face against the crook of Corin’s shoulder and then moves his hand down, finding the velvet skin of Corin’s stomach, a softness that belies the strength of the muscles underneath. He strokes gentle little circles there, losing himself in the simple rhythm of the touch until Corin shifts again, stretching a bit this time and coming half-awake. 

“Whas’the time?” he asks. 

“Early,” Din hums, “Lots of time yet.” 

“Hmmm, nice,” Corin says sleepily and his voice is something close to an inadvertent purr. “Tha’s good.” 

For all the stars in the galaxy, Din cannot wipe the dopey grin off his face. And he cannot tame the tide of lust that is now steadily flowing into him. “Yeah,” he breathes, “It’s good. Really good.” And he tilts Corin’s head back towards him for a lazy morning kiss. 

When it ends, Corin is a little more awake and Din guides him to roll over and face him again before pulling him into a _kov’nyn_. 

“ _Jate vaar'tuur, ner kar’ta_ ,” he murmurs. “How did you sleep?” 

“Mmm, _di’kut_. You’re a _di’kut_ if you have to ask me that right now.” 

Din laughs. He loves that Corin has opened up to the point that he will tease him now. Loves hearing him and seeing him laid out and unguarded for him in every way. It is an honour to be given that.

They kiss again, and when Corin’s tongue flicks out against his lower lip, Din groans. He feels almost greedy wanting more after everything that was shared between them last night, but he knows with absolute surety now that Corin wants this, too. That there is nothing taken from the other in this—only pleasure given and pleasure shared. 

Din wants to touch and kiss like this forever, but he can also feel the sweat of yesterday’s activities clinging to him and he wants to get up and wash that away. An idea flits across the front of his mind and he grins stupidly again. _Kriff_ , he thinks, _my face is going to get stuck like this…_

“Hey, _kar’ta_." He nudges Corin's shoulder. “Let’s get up.” 

He can feel Corin hesitate, knows that the other man does not want this to end, but then, ever-concerned about everyone’s needs but his own, feels him nod. “Okay,” he says, and makes to push the blankets back. 

“Wait,” Din interrupts, “I want...I don’t want to, I mean…” 

Corin is more fully awake now and looking at him in puzzlement. _Stars, why is this so hard to ask for?_

“I want to—to shower,” he finishes lamely. 

“Okay, sure,” Corin says, smiling. “I’ll get up so you can go. I’ll wait right here for you.” 

“No—no, Corin. I mean, I want to shower with you.” 

“Oh.” Corin says. Then, “Ohh,” and his blue eyes get a little wide. 

“Is that…?” 

“Yup. That’s…” Corin stumbles. “That’s, yes. Yes, let’s do that.” 

Din laughs again, and they both get up, making their way to the small ‘fresher that attaches to their room. They brush their teeth first, and for all the mundanity of that act, it feels so naturally intimate that Din wants to die. He can’t stop looking at Corin, who looks kind of brainless and sweet as he goes about the task, the last foggy tendrils of sleep still lifting off of him. Corin catches him looking and smiles around his toothbrush before kicking Din’s shin playfully with his foot. Din’s heart swells at that and he thinks for a second that he might actually be dead and this is _te Manda_ , the afterlife. 

The shower gets turned on, and as much as Din wants to linger forever, they have to be quick. They can’t waste the Covert’s resources. They wash up efficiently, but it’s still intoxicating to do that with someone else there. Din steals a couple playful kisses, pushes his hands into Corin’s soapy hair a few times, and relishes every humdrum bump and touch as they maneuver the small space together. 

When they finish, Corin reaches around him to turn the water off, and the need to rush falls away. They have time again, and Din reaches for Corin, pulls him close and kisses him while the air cools their wet, water-warmed skin. Corin leans into the kiss and moans, and that combined with the slick feeling of their bodies pressed together nearly makes Din’s brain explode. He backs Corin against the wall of the shower and kisses him desperately while his hands roam the perfect lines and planes of his body. He had been half-hard before, but is all the way there now, and can feel from the length pressing against his hip that Corin is in the same state. He drops his head to the junction of Corin’s shoulder and neck, and worries the spot with mouth, teeth and tongue, marking his _riduur_ in the way that Corin has marked him so many times before. Corin presses himself even closer somehow and lets his head tip back, adrift in the feeling. 

They amplify each other, Din thinks. Each whole on their own, but something greater still together. And the way their bodies fit together like that’s how they were designed confirms this for Din. Whatever force planned their souls knew they would find each other someday, Din is sure of it. And yet there is still one thing left between them, something that Din has wanted for a long, long time now. He’d planned on it for last night, but the intensity of showing his face after almost thirty years had overwhelmed him a bit, and he’d let Corin lead the way instead. 

Now, though, he cannot wait any longer. He rubs a thumb over one of Corin’s nipples and then backs up a little so he can lower his mouth to the other, grazing his teeth over it. Corin gasps and bucks a little, and Din drops down to his knees, trailing his hands down Corin’s sides until they are squarely on his hips, thumbs working back and forth over the jut of bone there. 

When he looks up, seeking permission, Corin’s pupils are blown wide, his mouth open in a soft pant. Din can feel fine shivers of want in Corin and smell the enticing scent of his arousal. Corin is speechless, almost frozen, but not in any way that would indicate that this is something bad, something he doesn’t want. He just looks overcome and painfully, brutally turned on. 

Finally, Corin’s hand finds Din’s face and cups it so that his thumb runs over Din’s cheekbone. He takes a shaky breath and then nods his assent. Din feels awash in lust for a moment and gently knocks his forehead to Corin’s abdomen before running his tongue along the curve of one of Corin’s hip bones. His face bumps against Corin’s hardness a few times as he kisses and bites the achingly soft skin of his stomach and thighs, but Din pushes away the temptation to lose control and swallow down Corin’s cock like a drowning man gulping for air. _No, not yet_ , he thinks. He wants this to last. He wants this to be good, so good for Corin. Good enough that it communicates to him once and for all just how worthy he is to be at Din’s side, to be his _riduur_. 

After a while, when Corin is a shaking mess and has panted out, “Please, Din” several times, Din relents and lowers his mouth onto Corin’s still untouched cock, licking a wet stripe from the base to the tip. He groans at that taste of him, the clean salt of his skin, the sweetly bitter taste of precum as he takes the head into his mouth. He suddenly feels like he could come, right there on the floor of the damn shower, just from this. He breathes through his nose and steadies himself, his fingers digging into Corin’s hip as grounding. 

He moves slowly at first, taking his time and teasing a little. He feels vaguely out of his depth, having never done this before, but he knows what feels good to him when Corin does this and he knows how to listen to the ways his lover’s body responds to each touch and caress. Soon he finds a rhythm, a slow, swirling pace with mouth and hand, that undoes Corin, his thighs trembling beneath Din's hands. 

“Din, stars, Din, I—” 

The ‘fresher isn’t cold, but Corin is shaking almost uncontrollably, knees weak and buckling a little. Thanks to Corin, Din knows that feeling from experience, the effervescence of giving into pleasure completely, and he realizes that standing probably feels like a monumental feat for him right now. Din pulls his mouth off Corin’s length with an almost obscene pop and stands up, steadying him with a firm grip on his hips. 

“Bed?” he offers. 

Corin seems completely incapable of words and just nods, his chest heaving. Din helps him towel off the remnants of the shower and then guides him gently to lay on the bed. Before settling between Corin’s legs again, he grabs the small tin of salve from where it had been left on the bedside table last night and almost groans at the current of pleasure that runs up his spine when this small act makes Corin tip his head back and moan in anticipation.

He takes his time again, leaning over Corin for a few searing kisses before licking his way back down to Corin’s waiting hardness. Wrapping his mouth around the head, Din nearly loses himself in how good the delicate skin there feels against his tongue. He hangs onto some shreds of control, though, and fumbles the tin of salve open with one hand. He slicks his trembling fingers and then gives every last shred of his willpower to calm them before he works the first one into Corin.

Din keeps the pace of his hand slow at first, focused instead on trying to take Corin's cock down just a little deeper each time. Eventually though, when Corin is loose and writhing beneath him, he adds another finger and speeds up a bit, his mouth working more shallowly but his fingers curling in just the right way to send shudders through his beautiful, undone husband. Corin's pleasure seems to reverberate through Din and his love for him — for his _riduur_ — washes over him again and again, settling into his skin with a sweetly physical ache. Din doesn’t break the rhythm he’s set with his mouth and his hand, but sneaks a look up at Corin, wanting to see his husband's pleasure writ across his lovely face. 

Corin has his own neck craned a bit so that he can look at Din and moans wantonly when their eyes meet.

“So good, Din,” he whimpers, and then, ever self-sacrificing, manages, “What about you?” 

Din heaves out a little laugh around Corin’s cock and pulls off long enough to say, “I think it’s pretty clear that I’m enjoying this, too, _kar’ta_.” 

He moves to start in again, but Corin stops him with a hand on his chin. “No, I know,” he says, “But I want to—to—” 

Dins sits up and looks fondly at Corin, his hand stilling inside him. “Tell me what you want, _ner kar’ta_.” 

“I want to—to watch you touch yourself. Just—just for a bit.” Corin's face is already flushed with arousal but somehow manages to turn an even deeper shade of red, though he hold Din's gaze, persistent.

Din can’t help the smile that spreads across his face at that, at Corin asking for what he desires without retreating into guilt or apology. With his free hand, he reaches down and grabs his own aching cock and works it in time with the fingers he's thrusting into Corin. Din keeps his gaze locked on Corin, on the flush of his cheeks and the way he bites his lip as he watches Din, intent, tracking the pleasure on his face and the movement of his hand over his own cock.

Din gladly abides the change for a few moments, lost in their mutual pleasure, but eventually the longing to taste Corin overwhelms him again. He puts his hand back on the bed to brace himself and folds over to take Corin back into his mouth. He moves in a wet, aching drag along Corin’s cock, tongue flickering and teasing while he keeps a slow but firm pace with his fingers. Again, Din finds that spot inside Corin that electrifies his pleasure to the point that he is keening mindlessly, his back a perfect arc of bliss. He grasps for purchase in Din’s hair, hips lifting off the bed in instinctul, stuttering jerks.

Soon, he feels Corin tense. The hand in his hair tries to give a warning tug when words fail him, but he just swallows Corin down further and pumps his hand harder, curling fingers to touch in exactly the right spot. When Corin spills into his mouth, he feels his own pleasure arc and spit and he withdraws his fingers from Corin gently but swiftly to grasp his own cock and wring out his own release while the taste of Corin’s still inundates his senses. He comes hard, his skin on fire, his cum striping across the porcelain skin of Corin’s thigh.

In the aftermath, they just pant brainlessly, trying to recover a bit before making any attempt to move. Din is still kneeling between Corin’s parted legs, his forehead pillowed on Corin’s abdomen, shoulders heaving with his stuttering breaths. He can feel Corin underneath him, feel his body moving with gasps for air like it’s an extension of his own. 

Eventually, they begin to come back to themselves. Corin is aimlessly stroking a hand through Din’s damp, messy hair and the warmth of the lamp-lit room seems to cradle them soothingly back into the waiting arms of reality. Din feels like he wants to laugh and cry and shout his good fortune to the stars. He loves this man so much it’s ridiculous. 

Corin cracks an eye open and huffs a weak laugh when Din sidles up beside him and asks, more than a little mischievously, “Good, _ner kar’ta_?” 

“Unngh, Din,” he huffs with feigned annoyance, “We’ve been over this...if you have to ask that, you are a _di’kut_.”

Din snorts at that and splays himself out next to Corin’s spent form, hiding his idiotic grin in the crook of Corin’s neck and wrapping his arms around him. Morning has broken and sounds of life are beginning to filter in from outside the walls of their peaceful bubble, but they’ve still got a little time. Time to just be here together. 

_Di’kute tome_ , Din thinks. _Di’kute tome, par darasuum_. 

**Author's Note:**

> **TRANSLATION NOTES**
> 
> I try my best to get any snippets of Mando’a right by cobbling together a few different translation tools, but no guarantees! Do let me know if you see something glaring!
> 
>  _Jate vaar'tuur, ner kar’ta._  
>  Good morning, my heart.
> 
>  _Riduur._  
>  Spouse.
> 
>  _Di’kute tome, par darasuum._  
>  Idiots together, forever.
> 
>   
>  **Jan. 06/21 - Minor revisions made. Detail added in some areas to add flow, but overall content, rating and tags remain the same. (Basically, I was really rusty when I first wrote this and after shaking the dust off and writing more again, there was some clunkiness in this that was killing me and needed to be fixed!)**


End file.
